by Gentry Race
It was bittersweet. Were we dreaming? We looked around at the mess that had been created by the death of a star. To our surprise, it was not over yet. The gas, the dust, and the newly created elements began collapsing under their own gravity. As they swirled and became denser, the mass stretched and ripped the fabric of space-time itself. It was now a black hole.
Death had brought purpose.
We were that purpose.
I shot up from my hotel bed, dripping in sweat. The terrifying yet glorious nightmare I had just experienced was enough to startle me awake. As if I felt James in my head and the birth of something dark and overwhelming beginning to fruition.
I felt like shit — again — and filled with an appetite I’d never had before. I was also incredibly pissed off that I had just been pushed out of a window by a hellish witch.
How the hell did I survive?
I looked around the room and saw the clock read seven-thirty. Friday night. It was now dusk and I have been out for nearly two days? I tried to get up, but there was no bed below me. I was weightless. As soon as I realized my weightlessness, I dropped to the bed.
What the hell is going on?
I checked the suite. It was just me. I passed a long mirror, the sharp knife-like ornament caught my attention, which then I saw my reflection. My skin looked different…paler than usual. I hadn’t seen it this chalky since I’d worked an eighty-hour work week during crunch time at Iconoclast.
Even my eyes were different. A tinge of crimson seemed to have settled within the irises, and my sclera, the whites of my eyes, were dim and grey. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I tried to think back to being tossed out of the building, when Tessa said, ‘I gave you the virus’.
The idea was inconceivable. Even with the new ARMOR 2.0 technology, it wasn’t possible to pass programming code into genetic code.
Is she turning us into a goddamn monster? Why the hell am I using ‘us’? I am not an ‘us’.
I had a hunger for something, but I didn’t know what. All the pent-up feelings toward work and Jess seemed to penetrate through my head like a captive livestock taking a bolt gun between the eyes. I was a mad cow, a raging bull.
I felt the anger swell within me, and that’s when she texted.
Hera: Hey! Where are you?
Michael: Waking up.
Hera: You’ve been sleeping all day. We are setting up for the live heist event. You coming?
Michael: No, I feel like shit.
Hera: Well look who had too much to drink last night. You sleep on the street?
Michael: Bumped into a friend.
Hera: Hope it was Jess! lol
Michael: Fuck you.
Hera: Whoa! Take a chill pill. I was kidding.
Michael: I’m tired of everyone ragging on me.
Hera: What has gotten into you?
I wasn’t in the mood to be fucked with. I was ‘hangry’ and wanted something — anything. I ripped the fridge door off its hinges and found the grotesque plethora of nastiness that Ari had bought. For the first time, I didn’t throw up in my mouth just thinking about jellied calves’ feet.
I pulled out the gefilte fish and ptcha. Small bits of pressed fish swirled in a sweet, briny broth. Then I unwrapped the gelatinous goop of jellied calves and just stared at it. What the hell am I doing?
My stomach grumbled some more, and I couldn’t control the urge. I wanted flesh in my mouth.
I grabbed the jellied bar and bit into it like a champ. The feeling was incredible; succulent, savory fat melted in my mouth like butter. A few more bites and it was gone. The fat was good, but I was a bit parched from being conked out most of the day. I cracked open the gefilte fish, put the jar to my mouth, and gulped down the exquisite, briny liquid.
I was like a ravenous zombie in the middle of a meal. I looked at my skin, so pale it was almost silver, my eyes slit like a cat’s, the orbs sunken in, and my cheekbones protruding further than they had before my fall.
I wanted more. Not just flesh… I yearned for something — something that only one with power could obtain: more power.
Jess: I’m at your bank heist event! Well, downstairs… Can you get me into the VIP?
The words ‘bank heist’ made me slightly aroused. Why wasn’t I giving them the show? The fact that Jess had come to the event and was blowing me off showed me that she was nothing but a groupie for these things.
I should go just so I can tower above her like a watchman. And when the drains scab over, and she is drowning in the piss and blood from the sins of whores and crooked politicians, she’ll scream ‘Save me!’ and I will look down into her pretty eyes and whisper, ‘No’.
I marveled at the thought, but if anyone saw me, they would freak. Then the realization hit me: no one was going to say shit. I looked like everyone else dressed up down there, parading in the streets as villains and heroes. I would fit right in.
I smiled my biggest smile, and my yellowish teeth felt like they jutted out further. I felt like a ravenous shark, flashing its jaws, setting my teeth twinkling in the faint night. My slitted eyes grew wild, akin to those on a mask of a crazed clown.
“Wait till they get a load of me,” I finally said.
I walked the streets of San Diego a little taller, my shoulders broader. I didn’t strut like some superhero that had gotten a mean streak, dressed in black and finger-gunning everyone. No, this was different. When passing cosplayers saw me coming, they crossed to the other side of the street. They could sense that I was not to be fucked with.
The LayBoy girls were out, scantily dressed and in full marketing mode, with their sexy poses. I wasn’t shy when they came up to spew their overly rehearsed spiel, throwing each of my arms around the waist of a different girl and pulling them with me. The large bouncer saw this and grabbed me by the shoulder, but I didn’t budge. I could feel the evil strength within me.
“Hands off the girl, pal,” he said, flashing the large, silver pistol he had concealed under his blazer. “You want a girl? Get in line for the exhibit.”
I turned around, letting go of the girls, and watched their tiny butt cheeks jiggle as they strutted back to the front of the LayBoy event. The bouncer was at least six foot five, gnarly eyes, and breath that could kill a cow. My eyes never faltered from his.
“Oh, so you think you are a real badass now?” he said. “Just ‘cause you got some silver makeup and cat eye contacts?”
He pushed his fingers into my cheek as if to check the authenticity of my mortal squishy human frame. But my hardened metal skin didn’t budge. It felt like a fly had grazed me. The bouncer looked down at his finger in surprise.
“Ever danced with the Devil under the pale moonlight?” I asked, cracking a saw-toothed smile.
“What?” he asked.
I threw a steel-forced punch into his gut, then grabbed his head and threw him at the girls. He barreled through them like a bowling ball through pins. I channeled everything that was wrong with my life — getting blown off by Jess, longing for Hera, and the loss of my brother — and gathered that tension into my body. Anger condensing as they all cried out, and I suddenly felt maniacally happy.
My feet rose off the ground. I was weightless again. More bouncers came to defend the innocent bystanders from my wrath.
I held out my fist, now metallic, and pulled on the surrounding cars, trees, buildings and sidewalk, yanking it all toward me. The rippling crawled through each object and into me. I felt the dark force pool at my center… and then I let it all go.
BOOM!
I sent a burst of energy outward, knocking down the rebelling scum. I don’t have time for this shit. I wanted to hear screams. I wanted to earn my Gatica. My eyes were burning red with intensity. People thought they were watching Supervillain, Me, but they hadn’t seen anything yet.
With my mind, I effortlessly pulled the gun from the bouncer. I could ‘feel’ the metal. And then I remembered one of my all-time favorite lines: If you have a gun, you can rob a b
ank… but if you have a bank, you can rob anyone.
I smiled and obliterated the weapon on the molecular scale, remembering what the clown prince of crime would always say: ‘All it takes is one bad day.’
10
Supervillain, Spree
The crush of people was maddening. I made sure to stick my shoulder out a little further as I passed by every cosplayer, shoulder-checking them into the buildings and knocking a few to the curbside. It was too bad that San Diego had shut down the streets for this event; it would have been fun to play ‘Speed Bump Tourist’.
It felt like I had a hatred for the cosplayers. Thoughts of James and when he liked to see Jess dress up. Deep down, I wanted to watch the neon tutus and American hero flags burn. And only when this city is reduced to ashes, would the frolicking cosplayers and superhero fanatics have my permission to die.
Three large police floodlights outfitted with the signature logo of Iconoclast Games swirled in a crazy figure-eight formation in the sky, like a gothic city was calling for its dark knight to protect them. And just like a certain arcane asylum, locked were the gates beyond the green where the bank heist was being enacted. Two security officers stood guard at the gates, repeatedly telling approaching fans that the event was closed.
I couldn’t see Jess, but it didn’t help that I still didn’t know what she was dressed as. I pushed the thought aside.
Wait till she sees me.
I walked to the closest officer, and he almost pissed his pants, seeing the reality of the psycho before him. I cracked a sharp smile, and he immediately looked relieved, convinced it was just pretend.
“Sorry, kid. The event is full,” he said.
I could feel the wrought iron behind him, like I had some kind of bond with it. I raised my hands, and the top spires came bending down toward me, bowing to my strength. I was harnessing magnetism, a universal force of nature.
The guards hadn’t seen it yet.
I stepped back, ready to pull the iron out and cause the whole brick wall to come down on top of them, but then I heard a voice from above: Ari calling me from the rooftop.
“Michael, that’s some awesome cosplay,” he yelled out, walking to the escape ladder. “Climb on up.”
Hearing his voice broke my concentration. I felt a bit of relief — a cooldown moment.
What am I thinking? Pulling down this gate would have killed these innocent men, not to mention ruined the live-action demo of my most cherished game.
I walked over to stand below the fire escape that hung twenty feet above me. I extended my hands and mentally pulled at my skin, belt, rivets, and anything metal I had on me. I began to ascend, and floated just high enough to grab onto the fire escape.
The guards were shocked and yelled for me to come down. Crowds of people began to surround me as I climbed, and I looked down to see their reaction. A purple-cloaked, raven-faced girl was smitten and nudging her friend, who was dressed in a pink and white neighborhood spiderwoman suit. The spider girl struck a cord with me, as I remembered James always had an affinity toward the character.
And even though they were awestruck and encouraging; they had no clue that it was real, that James was gone and that I had this…villainous power inside me, infecting me.
As I climbed over roof’s ledge, Ari came to meet me, while the guards yelled furiously into their radios. It would only be a matter of time until they came for me. At first, this thought scared me, but then something deep down told me, ‘They will fear you when they come.’
When I looked at Ari, I saw that he was dressed as The Bald Eagle, despite the character being African-American and three times his senior. He wore a distressed leather airman’s jacket, with fluffy white tufts around the collar where it met a long American flag scarf. Thick eye goggles sat atop his head, suppressing his Jewfro, while his thighs flared from the puffy saddlebag pants he wore. He even had a Howard-Hughes-type crazy look in his eye. James would have loved it.
“Michael, what the hell?” he asked, now looking at my face and eyes. “Why didn’t you just — that’s fucking awesome cosplay, man. Why didn’t you say you were gonna dress up?”
My mind was racing for a quick answer; conflicting feelings swirled within me. I didn’t want to be here. One second, I felt like I wanted to throw up and run out of here, while the next, I wanted to murder every last one of these cocksuckers.
I could tell Ari didn’t care how I felt. He was more fascinated with how my “costume” looked so devilishly real in detail.
“Dude, you’re like The Mime, but with Dr. Awesome’s metal arms. No, wait. You’re like an evil Adam Antium.”
My head hurt faintly, like a headache was slowly fading away, but I didn’t mind Ari asking me questions. For a second, his voice soothed the situation.
“Who and who?” I asked, pushing past him to the other side of the deck to wait for the cavalry.
“The Mime, man,” he said, following me over. “You know, the sworn villain of F.A.M.I.L.Y. in the Quantum Universe?”
“Family?” I asked, feeling a bit of sadness. Like how my family severed into two after brother was killed. We were a unhappy family. Unhappy in its own way.
“Nevermind,” Ari said, pulling me to the ledge. “We are missing the heist.”
I looked down below and saw the next contender step up for the chance to live out their bad guy fantasy of robbing a bank: some idiot dressed as a blue evil bear with a squid-like body, topped with a red mohawk. I recognized the terrible design. The villain was another one from Hera’s game, The Mubble Fubbles.
He had his turn at the heist, but was foiled by some superasshole wearing a thick, red jacket with protruding cables running to his backside. He was locked into a large, silver helmet that had five rectangular horizontal slits so he could see out the thing.
Probably still smells like spray paint in there.
“That’s Captain Thunderbolt,” Ari said excitedly. “His hand is able to rocket off his wrist and propel at unsuspecting foes.”
I started to get mad again, thinking about this Captain Thunderfuck’s purity — his goodie-two-shoe. But was immediately relieved when I heard Hera’s voice behind me. I turned around and saw her talking with the security guards I had bypassed. She was dressed in an exquisite, brilliant blue, pencil-waisted cocktail dress. Every inch of her hard, perfect body stretched the integrity of the fabric to its limit. She looked respectable, but I had caught a glimpse of something different. After she had explained to them who I was, she finally came over. I tried not to let her catch sight off my soulless, demonic, stalker-like stare.
“Are you feeling better, or are you still an ass?” she asked, looking to Ari to see how to gauge my mood. “And what's this I see? You decided to dress up?”
I felt bad about how I had treated her in our texts, but then again, my relationship with Jess wasn’t her business. At that moment, I felt like I ebbing with the tides of heroic and evil.
I flashed my sharp, yellow teeth and swooped back my disheveled brown hair. “What doesn’t kill you simply makes you… stranger.”
“Oh, what a joke,” she said with a wary eye.
I could tell she didn’t approve of my new look or my attitude. So what if I was quoting the clown prince of crime? There were too many actors in this grand drama, and it appeared to me that I was the only participant with a full grasp on the situation.
I looked back at the crowd. The dressed up commoners were a poor sight to see. Clad in atrocious, did-it-themselves outfits, pretending they had the balls to do what was necessary. This city needed a better class of villain, and I was gonna give it to ‘em.
One girl down in the crowd was completely nude and painted in dark blue paint, save for the scale-like pattern that covered her private parts. Next to her, a seductive temptress I recognized her as she waved at me.
Tessa.
The evil witch was parading among the cosplayers and fans below. Though she wore her normal attire of a black exosuit with ARMOR behi
nd, she looked different somehow. She appeared to have a more petite frame. I was far enough away that I couldn’t make out her eyes; seeing her eyes would have told me for sure.
She tilted her head down and pulled out a phone.
My pocket vibrated.
Jess: Hey! Is that you dressed up? I think I see you.
Michael: No.
I almost shit a brick. It was Jess, and she was dressed up as Tessa. She did say she would be here, but was it really her? Could this just be Tessa trying to trick me?
Why in the hell is she dressed up as my creation?
It wasn’t long before Ari and Hera spotted her and pointed her out.
“Hey, there’s Jess,” Ari said.
I stopped him from saying hi. “Don’t. I’m not in the mood to see her.”
Ari was confused, but Hera gave me a look of death.
“Well, you may be an asshole, but I’m not,” she sneered, and then left to get her.
A microphone came on and gave slight feedback.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” the announcer boomed from the stage next to the bank. “Onto our next contender! Ready, villain?… Come!”
The crowd cheered in what was a pitiful excuse for a villain. A gangly, scrawny man wearing a striped horizontal sweater, like it had been a standard-issue prison uniform at one time. His sleeves were scrunched up to his elbows, revealing his skin, painted pale. His hair was a shaggy blonde, and with his colorless eyebrows, he looked like he had an extreme case of albinism. His mouth was outlined in dark lip liner, and slits were drawn above and below his eyes.
“Now, there’s a Mime,” Ari said, clapping along with the crowd that had erupted in roars and applause. “That’s who I was talking about. Quantum Universe, baby.”
“Call that a supervillain?” I asked, offended by the comparison.
I gripped the ledge tighter, but not enough to break it. I saw Jess clapping excitedly, and jealousy crashed inside me, converting anger into hate.